So much money wasted that could've been put to better use.
Of course, I didn't think that way when Molly and I were lovestruck kids and I was trying to impress her. That was a lifetime ago when everything made sense. Seventeen years old and we had it all figured out.
We were going to be together forever.
Forever wasn't as long as it used to be...
No matter how far I ran, thoughts of Molly were always just a heartbeat away. I clenched my jaw at the familiar pain. Seeing her today was going to fuck with me for a long time.
I hadn’t been here a full day yet and I already wish I'd never come back.
“Greetings, Master King,” the young valet called out from the opening garage door and rushed out to meet me. My father's extensive classic car collection glistened against the polished white floors and overhead lights. It was less a garage and more of a showroom.
I snorted out a chuckle. Here I was, a billionaire heir, and the only vehicle I owned at the moment was a motorcycle.
“Hey, kid. You got an extra shirt?” I laid my jacket over the bike's seat and stretched out the road soreness. It was too warm for thick leather when I wasn't riding.
“I don't think so, but I can have someone pick one up for you.”
“It's cool. Don't worry about it.” I checked my phone. I was only about two hours late for lunch. Not bad for me.
What the fuck happened to my shirt? At some point last night I lost it, but when?
“Uh, sir?” The apprehension in the way the valet looked at my bike was clear as day. His job was to park and maintain cars. He probably had no idea what to do with my beat up motorcycle. It didn't help that I'd parked it in the dead middle of the driveway, blocking the easiest path into one of the garage bays.
“Leave it.” I shrugged off his concern, spotting my brother Richard, who'd just stepped out the front door on his phone. I walked toward the inevitable argument. “I won't be staying long.”
Richard hung up the phone as I ascended the final steps to the front door landing. We stood there for a long moment, sizing each other up. Even in the growing heat of late spring, Richard was immaculately manicured in his expensive three-piece suit.
“You're late,” he said, behind thick sunglasses. He crossed his arms disapprovingly and flashed an expression that said he wasn't impressed. Richard was tall, clean shaven and had a pretentious side-fade and short shock-top hairstyle that was all the rage these days.
He looked like someone smashed together the covers of GQ and Forbes magazines.
“That depends on your perspective.” My posture stiffened, chest out, shoulders rolled back. He might've been able to make lawyers and other CEOs piss themselves, but he'd never been able to intimidate me. “I got here exactly when I wanted to.”
We both had the same color hair and eyes, but other than that we couldn't be any more different. He was taller than me, but I was more muscular. If it ever came down to it, I’d take him apart in a real fight.
“You expect the world to adjust itself to your every whim.”
“I don't expect a damn thing from anyone.” I shrugged. “I just do what I want.”
“They say that every seven years each cell in your body has been replaced. You're an entirely new person. So why is it that I'm still talking to a seventeen year old boy who still can't handle a shred of responsibility like arriving somewhere on time.”
My brother was such a judgmental prick. He'd made it perfectly clear that I was wrong for doing my own thing. I didn't want college or grad school, I wanted music. I didn't want to be groomed to fall in line with the family business like some good little duckling. I wanted to tour with my band.
“Spare me your fortune cookie wisdom. Ten years later you're still a dick, Dick.” It'd been at least that long since we had an actual conversation, but from the look on his face I could tell he still didn't like the nickname. “Growing up doesn't mean putting on an overpriced suit and firing people.”
“This is coming from a guy who doesn't even have a shirt. You lose it in a fight or a card game?”
“Dunno. Last night was pretty hazy. Whatever happened, I'm sure it was a hell of a good time.” When given the option, it was impossible for me not to try and rile him up. There was brotherly love, but this was more like brotherly hate. “It's called fun; you should give it a shot some time.”
“Dad's not going to be around forever. Some day you're going to have to man up and make something of yourself.”
“What do you call two number one hits then?” Nothing I ever did was good enough for Richard. Success was only measured on his terms.
“Where's your band now?”
“Fuck you. You self righteous prick.” My fists balled up out of habit. It was no secret that the band dumped me after a few world tours. Apparently I was too much of a rock star for them to handle.
Inevitably some drunken redneck would call me out at a bar and get put on his ass. What was so wrong with that?
“What’s all this about us getting written out of the will?” I relaxed my hands. I wasn't going to pick a fight with him, not yet anyway, and definitely not here. Dad asked me to come home immediately, so I did. I only got the voicemail from the lawyer last night when I was drunk and I managed to erase it by accident.
I was going into all this more or less blind.
“We don't start and stop at your request, little brother.” He shoved the door open for me. “Go find out for yourself.”
Fine by me.
I brushed past him and went inside. The sooner I could get out of here the better.
The scent of cleaners and hardwood filled my nose and triggered my nostalgia. I immediately thought of the one time I snuck Molly into the house when she was supposed to be at her friend's sleepover. That was well before we fooled around for the first time. We stayed up most of the night talking about the places we'd go together once we turned eighteen.
The butler told me that Dad had had the first floor reading room retrofitted into his new master bedroom. That struck me as odd. It was smaller than any of the actual first floor bedrooms and was the farthest away from the kitchen. I knew he was sick, but why he'd choose a room without a bathroom or even a closet was anyone's guess.
I ducked into each of the empty bedrooms I passed until I found a silk button down shirt in one of the closets. It was a little tight, but it'd do fine. I didn't want to see my father looking like a complete scrub. Dad and I didn't always see eye to eye, but I respected the man and I knew he loved me.
I walked through the foyer, the kitchen and the family room. The house hadn't changed much from how I remembered it. The ebony Steinway piano had the same high gloss shine and was lit in a way that made the entertaining room glow. Mom desperately tried to get Richard and I to play, but we just weren’t having it.
Molly played though. Holy hell could she play...
Whenever she came over the whole family would stop whatever they were doing and listen to a few songs. I could still see her fingers gingerly wandering up and down those ivory keys like it was yesterday. I'd rarely ever seen my mother smile so brightly with pride.
Everyone loved Molly.
I shook the image from my head and forced myself from the room. I had to get out of there before the damn memories ate me alive.